Supernatural Preferences

Dean Imagine

Your breathing was heavy.  Bruises danced up ad down your face, blood leaked from your nose and a cut above your eyebrow, and your lip was busted.  You spit out blood as the demon walked back into the room.  "Ready for round...what is this?  Ten?" he said, smirking and wrapping his knuckles.

"Ready as I'll ever be, bitch," you growled, yanking your arms and trying to free them from the bonds.  You'd been tied to the chair for who-knows how long.  Your body ached with exhaustion, your stomach growled with hunger, and your throat burned with thirst.  All of your muscles were weak and on fire at the same time from the strain of being beaten over and over again.  You weren't sure how much longer you could take of this, but you knew you'd fight until you blacked out, and then some.  A fire burned in your chest.

"Little (Y/N) isn't faring so well," he observed, circling you.  He went behind you and yanked your hair, tilting your head back roughly.  Your neck popped and you grimaced.  He spit in your face.  "You're not so pretty anymore, beauty queen.  Wonder what your little boyfriend would think of you now."

"He'd be too busy ganking you to notice me," you hissed, locking eye contact with him.  He punched you again, and a crackle of electricity went across your eyelids.  You felt bones in your face crack but you held your tongue, not wanting to say anything, not wanting to make a sound. 

"Still playing tough?" he asked, coming around to crouch in front of you.

"Tougher than you'll ever be." That earned you another punch in the face.  

"Hey, dickhead!"  The demon turned around, surprised, and fell backwards.  You looked down and saw Ruby's knife impaled in his chest.  

Dean.  Dean stood in the doorway, but he was running towards you.  The threat was gone.  You could give in to the blackness encroaching your vision.  

"No!" Dean said, crouching down in front of you and catching your face.  "Babe, stay awake.  Please.  You gotta stay awake."

"Dean," you whispered, falling forward in exhaustion as Sam cut your ropes.  

"Babe, I'm here.  I'm here.  It's okay.  You're okay." He picked you up, wedding-style, and carried you out.  The next thing you knew, you were in the back of the Impala with your head in Dean's lap and you all were speeding down the road.

"Go to sleep," Dean whispered, brushing your hair from your face.  "We've got a long drive."

You woke up in bed at the bunker.  When you stood, you almost fell over.  Looking in the mirror, you saw a cut and bruised face that was almost unrecognizable.

Holding the wall the whole way, you slowly made your way into the kitchen.

"You're up!" Dean said when he saw you, dropping his sandwich and rushing over to you.  He held you close, gently touching your bruised body.  "Babe.  I'm so glad you're safe."

"Me, too.  Me, too, Dean," you whispered into his chest.

"I love you." His voice was hoarse, raw with emotion.

"I love you too."